


Rosemary, Cardamom, Anise

by smolleaf



Series: Discordia Side Fics [1]
Category: Discordia (Webcomic)
Genre: But different, F/M, Gen, Gift Giving, Hanahaki Disease, Injury, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolleaf/pseuds/smolleaf
Summary: [NON-CANON TO DISCORDIA]Holly can't communicate her feelings, to her own detriment. A character study of sorts.
Relationships: Holly Walsh/Dante Russo
Series: Discordia Side Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135001
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Rosemary, Cardamom, Anise

'It was just a little crush,’ Holly had told herself. It wasn’t that different from a high school romance, was it? You meet a boy who you’re utterly infatuated with, you devote yourself to him for a few weeks, at most a month, and then you fall out. Holly hadn’t experienced it herself, as she was too reserved and cowardly to even start dating back then. She dreaded the heartbreak and attention that would stem from it, and she didn’t want to bother anyone with her opinions.  
Yet, there he stood. The handsome prince that her past self always dreamed of meeting. A little rough in terms of appearance, with his loosely styled hair and cunning, fox-like eyes, but even rougher in terms of personality. Charming, self-assured to the point of being vain, yet serious when the need arises. He wasn’t afraid to insult someone to make a point, which more often than not ended up being about how great he was. He was, as many people did describe him, unpleasant to interact with. There was something in there that attracted Holly, though. She didn’t know whether she was envious of his unwavering confidence, which she herself lacked, or some hidden desire of hers to be treated like a stepladder. Holly had a type, and it ended up being her polar opposite.  
When work first started, she was too caught up in impressing others and proving her worth to notice any of her coworkers. She didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, especially her superiors. It was only when someone had told her to relax that she realised she could settle down. She attempted to pay more attention to her fellow nurses, sometimes the doctors when they bothered to pay her mind, and that’s when she first noticed him.  
It hadn’t been instant, but with how intense the crush had become it might as well have been. He had approached her for some work related reason, but the only thing she let herself notice was his smug voice. From there, it had spun out of her control too quickly, and he now plagued her every waking moment. She never could work up the nerve to talk to him again, not wanting to waste his precious time. Holly was left gazing longingly from across the hall, silent admiration reserved just for him. Forgetting about workplace ethics and rules, and nevermind that he was, infact, her superior, Holly only wanted him.  
Today, she had left a note on his desk. It was a simple way of asking one out, and one she much preferred to the straightforward approach. She requested a meeting with him in the town’s small park the next saturday, promising nothing bad and the possibility of snacks. It was short but sweet. Sure to appeal to him, with it’s flattering, flowery prose and deliberate stroking of his ego. She hoped it’d get to him easily, she’d just have to wait until saturday.  
The porcelain was a personal choice of her’s, intricate, beautiful patterns spun around the curved surfaces of the teacups. Bold blues against stark white stood out on her pale, plaid picnic blanket. An almost picturesque basket of dainties laid in the corner of the fabric, a miniature, low-laying wood table in the middle. The table housed the fragile tea set. Holly would admit, it’s a little too much for a first date, but she wanted this to be perfect.  
People came and went, the lovely afternoon sun turned to the warm blend of dusk, but still she waited. An audible crack rang in her ears as she drank the last of her prepared tea.  
The other cup must’ve fallen.

\---

Any humiliation Holly might’ve felt going into work that next monday was immediately calmed by a small greeting from her love. It was just a small wave, accompanied by a loud “Hey!” but it had meant the world to her. The question of whether or not he had gotten her note didn’t cross her mind once, not when he had openly acknowledged her today. He must feel at least something for her, he wouldn’t have called her out otherwise. She couldn’t remember if he had done this before, he must be realizing now.  
Her next display of affection took some time to think about, but she had settled on a small porcelain cat figure she had gotten as a good luck charm. It was just something to put on the desk, a little accent on a corner shelf, but she had hoped it’d gain a little value as a gift to him. Maybe the subject matter could impress him, maybe the craftsmanship. Nevermind how she had found it at the thrift store; it could mean the world to him as a sign of affection.  
Maybe the figure wasn’t enough, maybe he wanted something more useful too. Then maybe a drink would fit right beside it. Holly couldn’t stand the bitterness of coffee, nor had she made it before, yet she stood in front of the coffee machine in the breakroom. She watched as the dark liquid dribbled into the filling pot, fidgeting with the seal of a miniature creamer. She hardly noticed one of her coworkers entering, only breaking focus when they came to stand beside her.  
Ivan had asked her what she was doing, despite the obvious answer. Holly froze, as was her normal response to being asked something. She stared up at him, blush apparent on her face. She replied that it was nothing, her stutter painfully obvious in her voice, and that she was just making the coffee for someone as a favour. The look on Ivan’s face didn’t change, but she hoped that deadpan look was one of understanding. He nodded, before sitting down for his own break.  
Holly hoped her timing was ok, as she entered the vacant office. The beverage was still hot in her hands, and she carried it carefully despite her palms screaming at her to hold it by the handle. She set the cup down on his desk, to the relief of her burning hands, before digging into her pocket to put the figure beside it. Satisfied with the arrangement of her gifts, she left swiftly and silently. Just in time too, as just as she’d closed the door, her love had come around the corner of the hall.  
Panicking silently, Holly rushed past him and back towards the breakroom. Stopping and falling against the wall, she slid to a sitting position, flushed face hidden in her still-warm hands. Ivan, who had not left in the time she took for her mission, repeated his earlier question, but with a bit more concern this time. She lowered her hands from her eyes to her nose, glancing up at the man once more. Her answer didn’t change.  
An ear-piercing crack rang in her ears, and she had wondered how one of the mugs had fallen.

\---

Never before had Holly felt this queasy. A pounding, hot feeling ached in her head, a thousand little needles pricked at her hands, and she suppressed the urge to itch. She didn’t think it was something to worry about, as her immune system has always been top-notch. She couldn’t stay at home today, not when she had someone to spend time with.  
Echoing her past experiences at work, she kept her distance from her love. There was that hope that no one would grow suspicious, but with her innocent appearance that was already unlikely. It was simple devotion, not anything bad. She didn’t want to bother him so soon, not when he was talking with someone else.  
She had seen the other man around, the lanky red-head who lived on the edge of town. Not so much the talk of the town, but rather the local urban-legend maker. Rumours of demons and monsters living under their noses, with this man at the center of everything. He was incredibly difficult to approach, not unlike her love, but much less of an awful person. She just wondered what the two were doing together, not expecting anything other than harmless chatter.  
The scrape of the metal patio chair beside her pulled her out of her thoughts. A woman, looking at least a few years older than her and much more put together, sat beside her. Rectangular glasses framed her piercing, analyzing grey eyes, and they remained focused on her the entire time. To be frank, it was very uncomfortable for Holly, who was left frozen in her seat.  
As Holly brought herself to give the woman some eye-contact, the woman gestured over at the table where Holly’s beloved sat. The woman’s aggressive stare only intensified, as if amplified for some unyielding loathing for the man not too far from them. The woman told her name, Silva, before starting any conversation.  
Silva asked for how long Holly had been following him, too which the shy girl had vehemently denied doing anything of the sort. She was only met with a stare in return, to which she replied that it had only been for a month.  
Questions swarmed in Holly’s head, only further worsening her headache. What was Silva talking about? Was this an interrogation? Oh no, what if Silva was trying to get her in trouble? What if Silva was close to him, and she was trying to get Holly away from him? That was the reality Holly’s mind wanted her to believe. Holly held herself tightly, breaths jagged. Her state of panic grew more apparent, worsening due the fear of making a scene. She had only noticed that she was crying when her shoulders were held by a more concerned-looking Silva.  
Holly refused eye contact, as Silva gave her a bottle of water. Holly didn’t calm down, not yet, but she did finally hear Silva’s words. Silva reassured Holly that she was not the only one that the man had hurt.  
Holly thought she had misheard at first, but what Silva had implied was as clear as day. Holly reassured herself that Silva was lying, that her beloved had hurt feelings, but he meant well. He helped the sick, he took a minute of his precious time to acknowledge her. He was utterly perfect in Holly’s eyes, and yet she couldn’t find the urge to deny what Silva said.  
The water bottle hit the pavement with a deafening shattering noise, yet remained intact as it rolled away from the two. All feeling in Holly’s hand was lost for a brief moment, as her head pounded in pain.  
Silva held up Holly’s right hand, and she had finally brought herself to open her eyes. Cracks spun unnaturally across her hand, echoing that of broken porcelain, gathering underneath where the tip of her middle finger had broken off.


End file.
